


Gift

by tigs



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:01:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigs/pseuds/tigs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first Teyla hears of Christmas, it is a warm day on the mainland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift

The first Teyla hears of Christmas, it is a warm day on the mainland; the sun is high and bright in the sky, and they are attempting to escape the heat by standing in the midst of one of the small, shady forests that cover the continent. 

Ford says, "You know, Sir, we should remember this place. In case Dr. Weir wants us to come get a Christmas tree." 

Over the months, Teyla has grown used to not understanding many of the things that her teammates talk about, but this time, both Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay are looking at Lieutenant Ford oddly, too. The Major just blinks at him, but Dr. McKay says, "Excuse me, Lieutenant? It’s July. How can you *possibly* already be thinking about Christmas trees now?" 

Lieutenant Ford blushes a bit, but he doesn’t duck his head. He stands up straight as he says, "Christmas is one of my favorite holidays. I like to be prepared." 

"Of course you—" Dr. McKay starts, but the Major interrupts him, saying, "I’m sure that Elizabeth is already working on getting some sort of winter holiday celebration planned. Christmas, Hanukkah, holiday of your choice." 

Teyla sees Dr. McKay opening his mouth again, sees Lieutenant Ford wince just a little bit in preparation, so she says, "Please, tell me about this Christmas. It is not a holiday that I have heard you mention before, I do not believe." 

So, they tell her: of trees, of presents, stockings, mistletoe, a story based in their peoples’ religions, and something else about a man called Santa Claus, who apparently liked to dress up in a red suit. She says, "I think I understand"—even though much of what they tell her still means nothing—because in a way she does. Her people have their own mythologies, after all, with their own attached celebrations, and she is sure that those, in turn, would make little sense to her companions, too. 

* 

Teyla’s first Christmas/Hanukkah/Winter Holiday of Your Choice (as the Major took to calling it as the day approached) is spent in the city of Atlantis, watching as members of the Earth expedition exchange gifts with one another. They are small tokens, many of them handmade, but people seem, she thinks, to treasure them. She sees many smiles, feels a general warm undercurrent in the room, a general joyfulness, and cannot help smiling herself. Even before Dr. Weir, Major Sheppard, and Lieutenant Ford approach her, bringing her presents of their own. 

They watch as she carefully unwraps the packages: a small box from the Major’s quarters that she had admired, three of her favorite power bars from Ford, (and another one from Dr. McKay, via the Major) and a book on Earth from Dr. Weir. They are small tokens, yes, but still Teyla feels as if they are too much. 

"I did not—" she starts, because she did not bring them anything, she has nothing to gift them with in return. 

All three of them smile at her and nearly in unison shake their heads: do not worry, they are saying, but still Teyla feels as if she should. Until the Lieutenant says, "The thing we always say at this time of year? It’s better to give than to receive. And you know what? It’s true." 

She blinks, then smiles back at them, and says, "Thank you. Very much. Thank you." 

The Major winks at her. "Happy Winter Holiday of Your Choice," he says. 

She says, "The same to you." 

* 

Teyla’s second Christmas is spent on the mainland, helping Halling and Dr. Beckett to battle an outbreak of an illness that has left many of her people without the strength to care for themselves. The worst has passed and for that she is grateful, but there is still work to be done. Her people still need her. 

She does not remember that it is an Earth holiday, even, until she hears the whine of a Jumper in the distance, quickly approaching the mainland. It is the Colonel, and Dr. McKay and Ronon and Elizabeth, all of them carrying great baskets of enticing smelling food. 

As he is unloading the back of the Jumper, the Colonel says to her, "That’s the other great thing about holidays: the leftovers. But today, we thought that you all could use them more than we could." 

Basket after basket go past, and as she watches, Teyla cannot help but think that there is too much food here for it to simply be the remainders of a great meal. She thinks that after two years in Atlantis, they would not have so grossly overestimated the amount of food that those in the city would eat. 

After all of the baskets have been unloaded, as McKay and Dr. Weir and Ronon and the Colonel are all climbing back into the Jumper, Teyla says, "Happy Winter Holiday of Your Choice." What she means is, I know, I understand, and *thank you.* 

The Colonel smiles softly and says, "The same to you," but Teyla knows that what he means is, you’re welcome. 

* 

Teyla’s third Christmas, she actually makes plans of her own. 

In part it is because she wishes to return the kindness of Dr. Weir and the Colonel from the previous two years, but also because she has more ties to Earth this holiday than she has had in the past. She is with Rodney, has been heading towards a state of ‘we’ and ‘us’ with him for many weeks now, and thus it is only appropriate, she feels, for her to actively participate in a celebration that is so obviously ingrained in his culture. No matter how many times he calls it an excuse for mindless consumerism; no matter unimportant he swears it is. 

Aside from the food, that is. 

The food, he admits, is important. 

She remembers enough from her first Christmas to know what sorts of presents the Earth expedition exchanges at this holiday, but while small tokens of Athosian design will suffice, she feels, for Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Weir, and Ronon, the same cannot be said for Rodney. She wants to give him something that he will be able to use in the lab, or on missions, not something that he will put on a shelf, not a knick-knack, as the Colonel calls them. 

For this, she enlists Dr. Zelenka’s help. She purposefully goes by the lab during a time when she knows that the Colonel is training Rodney on weapons, and the other scientist is glad to show her Rodney’s work station, with all of its equipment. Its machines and glassware and tools that three years later she still does not know all of the names of. He points out the sorry state of the wheels on Rodney’s chair, the pens that are scattered around the desktop, his black mug with the nicked handle (that has been to more planets than most of the people in this city) perched on top of a stack of papers. 

Dr. Zelenka says, "I do not know what help this will be to you." 

Then she notices a large, thick strip of foam just in front of Rodney’s keyboard. It is covered in a sort of stretchy fabric that is stained with sweat and coffee and is peeling off of the black base underneath. 

She says, "What about this, Dr. Zelenka? What is this?" 

He blinks at it for a moment, then says, "It is support, see--?" He leans forward to show her how his wrists rest upon it while he is typing on the keyboard. Before he finishes even one word, though, his eyes go wide as he looks at the shelf above the desk. He says, "Oh, oh, see how his books fall over? How one day he will go to pull one off of here to answer simple question about particle physics and then they will all come crashing down. That is an idea, yes?" 

"Yes, Dr. Zelenka," she says. "That is an idea. You have given me many ideas. Thank you." 

He nods happily, but before she leaves, she trails her fingers over the worn edges of the stained foam pad one more time. She smiles. 

* 

This Christmas morning, she actually feels a small thrill of excitement upon waking, a thin quiver of anticipation. This morning, she, too, is walking into the dining hall with a small stack of gifts in her arms. 

Today, this celebration is no longer an unknown. 

Dr. Weir is already seated at one of the tables, so Teyla goes to join her. 

"Teyla," she says warmly. "I’m glad that you’re able to join us this morning." 

"As am I," Teyla says, carefully setting down her own gifts. Together, their presents fill the middle of the table, although most of them are Dr. Weir’s, as she, obviously, has more people to gift. 

It is not too much longer before Colonel Sheppard and Ronon enter the dining hall, each with a pile of presents of their own, and then, finally, she sees Rodney. He is clutching several small packages and is looking almost as uncomfortable as Teyla has ever seen him. She smiles at him, but he only gives her a weak grin back, then it’s just a few more steps and he is there with them. 

This is not the cue for everyone in the room to begin exchanging their presents, Teyla knows, but it almost feels like it, because no sooner has he sat down than the first people begin standing up, handing out their packages. There are more this year than there were the first, the product of the Daedelus’ trips, Teyla knows, shopping lists and families back on Earth sending gifts to their loved ones. 

Everyone who Teyla has gifts for, though, is sitting at this table, so she stays, and Rodney does, too. Silently, they place their gifts at everyone’s respective seats, and then after a brief pause, they hand their gifts to each other. Teyla knows what is in the rest of the packages—or, at least Colonel Sheppard’s and Dr. Weir’s. She can smell the scent of ground coffee from where she is sitting. Ronon’s is shaped differently, though—and apparently seeing her eye it, Rodney says, "Girl Scout cookies. Thin Mints. The same kind he ate two-thirds of that package of." 

Teyla smiles, nods, then looks down at her own present. It is two packages, actually, and she is sure that one of them contains a box of the peanut butter Girl Scout cookies that *she* most appreciated, when Rodney shared his stash with her *after* the Ronon incident. 

The other gift, though, is not a bag of coffee, nor is it a box of cookies—it is too heavy, and also too square. She looks up from it, from running her fingers over the paper, to see Rodney watching her with an almost anxious look on his face. He is also periodically glancing down at her own gift to him, so she says, "Go on. Please, open it." 

He nods quickly, then undoes the ribbon that she used to tie it shut, unfolds the paper, and then he is looking at her gift. It is the same length as his previous wrist guard, still the right height to give what support he needs, but this one is not made out of rubber. It is made of the soft cloth that her people make their summer clothes from and is filled with handfuls of seeds. It is as firm as the foam is, but will also form to his wrists, which is optimal, Dr. Beckett told her. It will be good for Rodney, Dr. Beckett said. 

"Your old wrist support," Teyla says. "I was in the lab and I saw that it was getting rather worn. I thought that maybe you could use a new one?" 

He nods absently, running his fingers over the soft cloth. Then he truly looks at her and smiles widely. "This is exactly like those wrist guards they sell in those ridiculously expensive treat-your-body-right stores, back on Earth. The same kind that Kavanagh lobbied the U.S. Military to supply for us for this mission, which they refused to do. He is going to be insanely jealous." 

He sounds so positively gleeful that she that she cannot help but smile, but then as his eyes drop down to her presents again, she looks back down at them herself. She unwraps the cookies first—and indeed, they are the peanut butter ones—and then she turns to the second package. Carefully, she peels back the paper, then pulls out the thin cardboard box. She opens the lid, then blinks, before pulling out a black mug. 

And it is not just *a* mug—it is *the* black mug, the one with the nicked handle, the one that he has taken on nearly every mission that they’ve been on. When she looks back up at Rodney, he is turning an even deeper shade of red. She imagines that he is twisting his hands underneath the table, that he is thinking up all sorts of excuses for why this is a bad gift, why she should hate it, why he’ll take it back and get her something better. New. Order her something. 

Indeed, he says, "I’m not good with gifts. I never know what people— Well, what you would *want*. And then Radek said— And I thought—" 

Reaching across the table to lay her hand over his, she says, "Thank you, Rodney." What she means is, I understand, because this is not about the mug, she is sure of that much, and she thinks that she knows what he is trying to say. 

She is sure of it when he says, hesitantly, looking down at the table instead of at her, "I have extra coffee in my room. I didn’t give you a bag today, obviously, but you’re welcome to, er, share mine. If you want." 

"I would like that," she says slowly, deliberately, so that he will know that she is not just talking of coffee and mugs either, and she watches as he breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing suddenly and slouching down in his chair, grinning brilliantly at her. Before they can say more, though, Ronon and the Colonel return. They both look at the unwrapped presents between them, but it is the Colonel who says, "A mug, McKay? Hey, don’t you have one just like that?" 

Rodney nods, looking wary again, but Teyla runs her finger over the nick, and says, "Yes, he did." Then, as she feels Rodney’s foot seek hers out beneath the table, as he presses it to her own, she grins widely at Colonel Sheppard and says, "Happy Winter Holiday of Your Choice, Colonel." 

When he responds, saying, "The same to you," she thinks, oh, it is. 

End


End file.
